Nowhere To Now
by Lita Maivia
Summary: Mickie James suffers defeat at the hands of the Burchill Family, but it's not John Cena that comes to her rescue. Mickie finds herself alone with her savior and allows him to see her in her most vulnerable moment. Mickie James/Ken Kennedy friendly
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_"Here is your winner and NEW WWE Women's Champion… KATIE LEA!"_

The announcement continued to ring in Mickie's ears despite her best efforts to shut it out. It couldn't be true, and yet they were playing Katie's music. Mickie was forced to lay and listen as that grungy tune continued to pierce her ears. But even that couldn't drown out Lilian's announcement of a new Women's Champion.

Dazed and confused, Mickie struggled but sat up. It was something she regretted the instant the task was completed. Before her she saw the celebration of the Burchill family as they basked in the glory of Katie's first Women's Championship reign. But what was perhaps more pressing of a matter for the former champion was that Paul Burchill had set his sights on the recovering diva.

As Katie watched on with a twisted glint in her eyes, Paul advanced on the downed diva. Mickie tried to get to her feet, only to wince at the pain shooting through her neck when any effort was exerted. For her own safety she was forced to scoot backwards into the corner, holding a hand out as the only defense to Paul's advances. But it didn't stop the grasp on her hair as he yanked Mickie aggressively to her feet. The Burchill brother glanced towards his sister, getting a nod of encouragement.

Mickie squeezed her eyes shut, unable to fight back after the results of her championship match with Katie Lea. Not only had she taken herself to the limits to prove that she could beat the Lady Burchill, but Katie had herself a secret weapon. And it happened to be what she was currently at the mercy of. The match seemed to be in the books as Mickie planted Katie with an impaler DDT, only for Paul to take the referee out of the game. As Mickie checked on the downed official, Paul made himself known to the champion, taking her down from behind with a very Twisted Sister that allowed Katie to crawl into the cover.

And now Mickie was once again about to suffer at the hands of Paul Burchill. With her eyes closed in dreaded anticipation, she felt herself falling. A panicked yelp escaped her lips but instead of crashing painfully into the canvas, she fell awkwardly to her side and stared in surprise as Katie Lea darted from the ring. Mickie's eyes darted from Katie where she found her savior in the form of a loud-mouthed brass rebel known to all as Miiiiiiissstttteerr Kennedy. Kennedy.

Mickie crawled into the corner, fearing for her own safety as Ken turned up the trouble on his rival. Paul Burchill had nowhere to run thanks to Ken's onslaught in the form of a closed-fisted brawl. Referees flooded the ring to tear apart the unsanctioned fight but Ken would not be denied, breaking free and spearing Paul right out of the ring! The referees quickly followed, desperately trying to get Ken off of Paul, who did his best to cover up and save himself from Ken's murderous rage.

The mass of referees succeeded once again in ripping Ken's death grip off Paul, allowing the brother to crawl to the safety of the announcer's table. Ken swung and kicked wildly at his restraints, fighting off any and everyone who put their hands on him. He spotted Paul getting back to his feet and let out a primal roar as he tore through the referees and ran full force…

_**CRAAAAACK!**_

…into a glass pitcher that Paul smashed into Ken's face! Mr. Kennedy dropped to the floor, grabbing his face and yelling out in agony. Paul didn't wait around to enjoy the damage he caused, darting around the ring and joining his sister, the WWE Women's Champion, as they raced backstage to find sanctuary.

EMTs quickly joined the referees are ringside, no longer a struggle to contain Mr. Kennedy. Now, everyone watched on with apprehension as Ken's hands became smeared with his own blood pouring from his face. Mickie remained frozen in the ring, her eyes watching with fear as the sight of Ken's blood.

* * *

Minutes feel like hours later. Or maybe it has been hours later. Mickie had honestly lost all concept of time after she made it through the curtain. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was no longer the WWE Women's Champion. She knew that Paul Burchill and Katie Lea had devised the perfect plan to ensure that they left this Night of Champions with the gold. _Her_ gold. Everything after the Twisted Sister was a blur to her, but she knew that much.

"Mickie! Mickie wait up!"

The familiar voice of WWE Diva Maria calls out to her, but Mickie doesn't dare stop. In fact, she actually picks up the pace at the sound of the voice. She isn't sure why exactly. It isn't like Maria has done anything to her. Maria was one of her best friends, but she just couldn't deal with people right now.

"Mickie!"

Mickie finds herself with no choice as Maria's voice is closer that time. Next she feels Maria's hand barely graze her shoulder, urging her to turn around. With a sigh, Mickie obliges and faces her friend. Maria's looks of empathy is almost too much to bear. It feels far too much like pity to Mickie. And that is exactly why she didn't want to deal with anyone right now. All she wanted to do was wallow in her loss, and the only person she wanted pitying her right now was herself.

"Mickie, I…"

Maria struggles to comfort her broken friend with words of encouragement, but it appears easier said than done. Mickie was ready to give in and play happy just to end the torment this was putting her through, but those plans become a distant memory when she spots another superstar in the distance. Maria's eyes quickly follow Mickie's, darting over her shoulder to spot John Cena walking and talking with a random WWE employee.

Like any other day, John Cena looks to be full of jokes and laughs as he carries the entire conversation. Like any other day, like nothing is wrong. Like Mickie didn't just lose her WWE Women's Championship. Like Mickie wasn't just attacked by Paul Burchill. Like Mickie didn't just watch another man bloodied in an effort to save her.

When Maria's empathetic expression returns to Mickie, the former Women's Champion is already halfway down the hall. Her back is to Maria (and Cena) and she doesn't dare look back. Her hands nearly cover her face as she forces back all her emotions and focuses entirely on getting as far away as quickly as possible.

She shoves open the first door she comes to, slamming it shut behind herself. Safely inside from the pitying eyes and everything else, Mickie leans back against the door, her eyes glued to the floor. Heavy breath after heavy breath inflates and then deflates her chest, taking comfort in the fact that she's finally alone… or is she?

"Rough night?" Ken asks, taking a swig from the bottle.

Slowly, Mickie's eyes raise up from the floor to stare directly ahead at the individual lounging back against one of the many equipment cases stored here. With a beer bottle in one hand, Ken gently touches the bandage over the corner of his eyebrow, cringing at the pain it produces. Mickie's expression remaines void of any emotion as she stares straight ahead at her savior.

"Tell me about," he responds dryly to her lack of response.

Mickie tears her eyes away from him, staring up at the ceiling now as she resumes her internal struggle. To cry, or not to cry. That was the question of the night. And one that Mickie seems to be losing control of. A single sniffle brings about a sob that starts the water works. Far from crying a river, Mickie does finally allows some tears to well up in her eyes.

This brings about a silent and conflicted expression from the usually loud and focused Ken. He winces at the sight of Mickie finally breaking down but his attempt at getting up is halted by his own discretion. Does he want to go to her? Would she even let him? More questions without answers.

Ken decides to answer the first one. With a sigh, he slides down off the equipment case, leaving his beer behind as he gingerly approaches the diva. Cautiously and with much hesitation throughout, he reaches out to her. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and slowly he pulls her into what is meant to be a comforting hug.

Mickie presses her forehead to his t-shirt clad chest and allows herself to feel the emotion of defeat, no matter what circumstance it occurred under. Ken's eyes tell his own story of how awkward this moment is for him. Should he really be the one comforting her? And why is she even letting him?

After a very heavy and deep breath, Mickie finally tears her face out of Ken's embrace, craning her neck to look up at the man she's allowed to see her in this vulnerable moment. More awkwardness fills Ken's eyes and posture as he finds his face just inches from Mickie's. The man with something always on his mind seems to be at a complete loss for words. But that doesn't stop him from trying.

"Mickie, I…"

He trails off breathlessly, not sure what to say in a moment like this. Apologize for the situation? Offer condolences over her championship loss? What is there to do… except kiss? Without a clear indication from either side, someone initiates just that as Ken Kennedy's lips meet those of Mickie's. Regardless of who initiated it, both begin to eagerly return it. Ken's hands move from Mickie's back to her jaw, cradling her face in his hands as he returns the kiss with a fiery passion. Mickie's hands find their way to his biceps, clutching to the sleeves of his shirt as she intensifies the kiss just as fervently.

End of Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Here are your winners, the team of Beth Phoenix and the WWE Women's Champion Katie Lea!"

Another devastating announcement rung through Mickie's head. Just twenty-four hours removed from Night of Champions, Mickie James was given the opportunity to avenge her loss to the British Diva who had taken her WWE Women's Championship. The end result, however, saw Mickie once again staring up at the lights, this time thanks to a Fisherwoman's Suplex from Beth Phoenix. The woman she had taken the championship from in the first place had avenged her loss months later and therefore given Katie yet another victory over the former champion.

Mickie makes her way through the backstage area, her neck throbbing from the combination of the suplex at the hands of Beth and the lingering sensation from Paul Burchill's Twisted Sister. She works feverishly in an attempt to loosen the muscles, but they soon become an afterthought. Her attention becomes distracted by one of the many monitors showing RAW in progress. It isn't the show that has the Diva distracted, it's the man currently making his entrance.

John Cena. Many people had perceived him as her boyfriend backstage. Mickie wasn't surprised at the assumption, considering they had gone out on quite a few dates. However, John was anything but her significant other. At least he didn't seem interested in being anything of the sort. She got that impression loud and clear when he had made no effort to get in touch with her after she lost her WWE Women's Championship. Or perhaps more importantly, after he won the WWE Championship. To be fair, though, even Mickie couldn't put John Cena entirely at fault. She had spent a large portion of her time avoiding him. It just became too much to deal with after his acquisition of gold, something she now lacked. But at the same time, no messages on her cell phone and avoiding him was entirely too easy, in her opinion. And now she's laying her eyes on the WWE Champion without him even knowing it, courtesy of the monitor before her.

It seems like almost an eternity to Mickie as she watches John parade his newly won championship to all his adoring fans in the arena. Her eyes close for a moment and when she opens them, she finds herself staring downcast at the floor. Her boots kick lightly at the tile before she takes off away from the painful reminder of what she doesn't have.

* * *

Ken Kennedy leans his head back, tipping the beer bottle with him as he takes a long drink of his poison. It almost makes him laugh out loud because he had never been anything besides a social drinker. Yet, ever since that night he's found it as his only escape from reality. It's helped him escape from the constant cheap shots Burchill's used to take him down. More importantly, it has helped him escape from the loneliness he didn't even realize he felt… until that night… until that embrace ended…

* * *

As passionate and reckless as their embrace had become, it ended abruptly and all too soon. Mickie leaned back against the door, breathing heavily as Ken's face instinctively tried to follow after her until his common sense yelled at him that she had pulled away. Regrettably, he pulled back as far as he could with Mickie still holding onto his shirt sleeves, desperately seeking the same air Mickie was searching for. Nothing but their breathing filled the room as Mickie's eyes struggled to avoid Ken's, which screamed his desperation for her gaze. Was she regretting the moment? Afraid of wanting more? Worried about what the others would say? Eventually Mickie released Ken's shirt and slid out from between him and the door. Ken took a step back, his face guilt-ridden now and even he didn't know why. But he no longer sought out Mickie's gaze, instead fixating his stare on the floor.

"Thank you. But it doesn't change anything…," her words were breathless and stung him hard.

Ken winced at the words, almost as if he knew they were coming yet prayed they wouldn't. Mickie's chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch her breath from their passionate embrace, her eyes finally risking a glance in his direction. Ken could see her out of the corner of his eyes, not wanting to see this coming but at the same time dying to see her.

"It can't change anything…"

Whether she intended it or not, she cut him once more before pulling the door open just enough to squeeze herself out. Ken simply stood in the aftermath of their blind passion, a heavy breath expelled from his lung as he allowed her words to sink in deep.

* * *

Her words throbbed in his mind every second he was sober, prompting him to take another hard drink from his bottle. What did she mean when she said it can't change anything? Was she talking about John Cena? Ken hated him. John was a good guy and Ken hated him. Simple as that. He didn't care if it could change things or not. He knew that even if she didn't admit it, things had changed. He knew damn well they had for him as the alcohol did its best to pull him away from that knowledge.

Again the bottle finds his lips, rushing another sizable amount of alcohol into his system. He swallows hard and rips the bottle from his lips, sitting in the silence. But it isn't the silence that has his attention, she does. Without even looking up, he knows he's no longer alone in his hideaway alcove he had found. His eyes travel upward from his seated position on the floor to her. She stood before, out in the open hall, looking entirely vulnerable as her arms wrap around herself.

"I know what you're going to say…" he rushes to stop her words this time.

But Mickie makes no effort to speak like last time, she simply watches him with a sadness in her eyes that makes his heart ache. Ken drags himself up along the wall he was sitting against, but now he makes no effort to continue his sentence. He ushers out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the wall while his eyes scan the entire area in sight, almost as he's going to find the rest of his sentence written on the walls. Maybe he doesn't know exactly what she's going to say, but he has a pretty good idea. Though, he couldn't apologize without taking full responsibility for their intimate embrace. And truthfully, it might have been the alcohol talking, but he wasn't even sure it was all his doing.

After seemingly thinking over his next comments, or possibly the finish to his earlier one, Ken finally looks back up at Mickie. He holds his arms out at his sides and shrugs his shoulders. The remorseful expression on his face all but tells Mickie that he doesn't know what she wants to hear from him. Another sigh comes from him, but there doesn't seem to be anything he can say to change the situation. And he was thinking damn hard, or at least as hard as he could at the moment. Most of his brain was busy cursing the alcohol that kept him from functioning at full capacity.

It takes Ken longer than it should to realize that Mickie has remained unmoving throughout all of this. Even his attempt to make conversation, if you could call it that. The sad part about it is that he comes to the realization when she finally does move, glancing back towards the hustle and bustle of the backstage area outside this hidden alcove Ken had ducked in for drinking on the job. His eyes seem to beg for her gaze to return to him, completely void of any awkwardness that he felt dropped into the previous night. It isn't until Mickie, slow at first, moves into the alcove that he actually looks caught off guard. An eyebrow quirks as Mickie stepped up to him, her arms slowly unraveling from around her small form. Ken stares down at the woman with a curious expression across his face.

"I don't know what you want…," Ken shakes his head in defeat, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

His thought is abruptly cut off when Mickie reaches out and takes his face in her hands, pulling his lips against hers in a reprise of last night's embrace. Startled at first, Ken instantly relaxes at her touch and returns the kiss, but that quick it's long after Mickie has already single-handedly taken it to a fierce level. The beer bottle clatters to the floor right before Ken's hands slide up Mickie's sides, pulling her body up against his.

End of Chapter 2

* * *

Okay, that's the end of chapter two. I apologize if it seems a lot like chapter one with a different setting but I've actually got places for this story to go in my head. And I really wanted to build Ken's emotions coming out of the encounter while leaving Mickie's still somewhat in the dark. Anyways, let me know if you guys think I should keep this going or if I'm taking things down instead building up. Thanks so much for all the reviews thus far! You guys really motivated me and I had a blast writing this one! I'm really loving writing Ken like this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"The champ is here!"

The bellowing greeting that was all too familiar to Mickie James echoes throughout the hallway. Without even looking back, she immediately picks up the pace in her walk, looking to get lost in the crowd.

"Mickie, wait up!"

Too late. No sooner than Mickie turns the corner does she hear John's voice specifically call out to her. She hesitates just around the corner, wondering if she can make a getaway before John catches up to her. All wondering is stopped when John pops around the corner seconds later with a broad grin on his face.

"Hey girl! Where you been?" John asks casually, his smile never fading even at the sight of Mickie's less than thrilled expression.

"Oh, I… um… around," Mickie struggles to come up with a good response but fails miserably.

Truthfully, she didn't know what to say. She had been around, it just so happened that Ken Kennedy was also around the same general area. She wanted nothing more than to turn things around and demand just where the hell he'd been for the past couple of weeks since Night of Champions. No doubt celebrating with his newly won WWE Championship.

"Well, hey. Some of the guys were talking and, you know, you came up. And it got me to thinking how things between us have… well," John actually looks nervous now as his eyes avoid Mickie's at all costs.

"Things between us have… what?" Mickie pressures for him to continue.

"Look, I like you, Mickie. I think you're hot and you're fun to be around. I really feel like things between us have stalled as of late. And I don't like that. I want things to progress," John suddenly fills himself with the courage to speak freely.

Mickie can't help but smile at John's words. All this time she figured he hadn't noticed the distance between them but here he was proving her wrong. It certainly made her feel better about their "relationship". Yet on the other hand, it made her feel more conflicted about whatever it was that was going on with Ken.

"John, I feel exactly the same way. I was actually worried that you had lost interest or found something better. I'm so glad that you want more. I totally do too."

So overwhelmed with relief that John isn't just some uncaring playboy, Mickie blurts out her response to him. The moment the words leave her lips, though, Ken comes back into her mind, accompanied with the feelings of regret. Though, she wasn't sure what she regretted exactly. Did she feel like she was cheating on John? Or does she now feel like she's cheating on Ken?

"I am so glad to hear you say that! I'm in room 319 tonight. Or, I should say, we're in room 319 tonight," John informs Mickie with a smile as he takes her hand.

Mickie stares at John, completely and utterly stunned by his words. So stunned, in fact, that she isn't even sure she heard him right. And if she did, she hoped to God she misunderstood what he said. He releases her hand, leaning in and kisses her cheek before drifting away into chaos of the arena. Mickie stares after him, still unable to form a coherent response, despite the fact he isn't there to hear it anyways. Her eyes drop down to the hand he just held moments ago, a key card resting in her palm.

* * *

Later that night, Mickie treads her way across the hard marble floor of the hotel foyer. With a disconnected expression on her face she presses the up button on the elevator panel, awaiting her chariot to Room 319, where John Cena waits for her. Her arms slowly move around her form as if fighting off a chill. Even the ding of the elevator's arrival sparks no life in Mickie's detached appearance.

Once aboard, she moves to the very back corner and tucks herself away. Just as the doors slide closed, trapping her alone within, a hand shoots in at the last possible moment. The doors respond in kind, parting open to give Mickie full view of Green Bay's own. Mickie takes the view in for no more than a moment before tearing her eyes away from him, staring down at the elevator floor.

Ken takes a deep breath and steps into the elevator, his eyes never leaving Mickie's sheltered stance even as the doors slide closed behind him. The ride up to the third floor shouldn't take long at all, but it feels like an eternity with all the awkward tension filling the small space. Mickie wraps her arms around herself tighter, yet that shiver never does come. Ken grasps a hold of the railing around the inside of the lift, his dark eyes never leaving Mickie, despite her inability to make eye contact.

Another ding ends things, bringing about the opening of the doors as they reach the third floor. With a long breath that Mickie seems to force into her lungs, she takes a step forward… and is stopped in her tracks as Ken's arm shoots out before her. With his palm pressed against the elevator wall, he stares down at the troubled diva.

Mickie's eyes remain locked on the elevator floor, well aware that her path is being blocked and fully aware of who it is blocking said path. However, instead of fighting it, she simply allows her head to hang down before him. The doors begin to slide closed, only for Ken to reach back with his other and shove them right back open. All the while, he keeps Mickie trapped within.

Mickie takes a deep breath, keeps her head down low, and reaches up to place a hand on Ken's forearm. Her touch does nothing to free her from the restraint, yet it brings a heavy sigh from Mr. Kennedy. His arm quivers under Mickie's touch and his eyes burn into the top of her head, pleading for her to share his gaze.

"You don't have to do this," he whispers down to her.

His soft spoken pleas are all for nothing as Mickie finally applies some pressure to his arm, which surprisingly goes limp. Due to her touch? Or was it never meant to be a restraint in the first place? Either way, she is now free to make her choice… and steps out of the elevator with her eyes never risking a glance at Ken. Ken glances back over his shoulder, making no move to follow before allowing his own gaze to drop to the floor.

* * *

"This isn't going to happen… is it?"

John sits on the edge bed in nothing but his boxer shorts, looking up at Mickie. Mickie herself stands at the foot of the bed, her eyes still downcast with no indication what it is she's ashamed of. Is she disappointed that she's letting John down? Or is it that she let Ken down by coming here? John glances up at the diva, letting out a slow breath.

"It's another guy, isn't it?"

Mickie's eyes float towards John, her head remaining angled towards the carpeted floor. No answer was all the answer that John needed. He slowly nods his head before slumping forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Mickie closes her eyes, as if she could shut everything out and start completely over. When she opens them, John is now standing. He moves across the room to stand directly in front of her, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look up at him.

"Look, I had this coming. You can't expect a beautiful woman to wait around for you. I did this and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry," John pours his heart out as he stares into Mickie's eyes.

"I'm sorry too," Mickie's voice is as soft as her touch on his hand beneath her chin.

A faint smile forms on John's lips but it fades just as quick when Mickie pushes his hand down from her face before releasing him. Mickie steps back from him, grabs her coat and sidesteps towards the door, her remorseful gaze stuck on John's staggered expression. He winces and forces himself to look away when Mickie jerks the door open and disappears into the night.

* * *

Meanwhile, hidden within the stairwell of the hotel, Ken Kennedy leans against the cold stonewall and relives moment after moment in his head. The first kiss with Mickie James. He still didn't know if he initiated that or if she did. Their second kiss. He knew that was all her. And that was all he needed to know that she wanted it just as badly as he did. But then why isn't she with him now? Why is she with another man?

It wasn't fair. That single thought took precedence over everything in his mind. It wasn't fair that he couldn't have her. It wasn't fair that another man got her touch when he needed it so bad. That's right. He didn't care to admit that she wasn't just something he wanted, she was what he _needed_. John could have any girl he wanted, but Mickie was the only girl Ken wanted.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the door being shoved open aggressively. Ken's hand shot up to catch the door from swinging right into his face. Moments later, Mickie stepped from behind the door. Her eyes locked onto him and she couldn't tear them away if she wanted. Ken's breath caught in his throat, blinking repeatedly at what had to be his imagination.

He released the door from his grasp, allowing it to slam shut. Alone now, Ken fought every instinct to reach out and touch her. Both to prove she was really here and because it was everything that he wanted. Her touch was everything to him.

"Mickie…," is the only thing that his breathless voice could muster.

He steps forward only for Mickie to move towards him. Mickie lunges forward with a hungry lust in her eyes, grabbing the sides of Ken's face and forcing her lips against his one more time in a long line of indiscretions. The force of her kiss knocks Ken back into the wall, where she only intensifies their passionate embrace. Things abruptly change when Ken returns what is being forced upon him.

With more enthusiasm than has been shown from him in their previous encounters, Ken pushes Mickie back into the adjacent wall. His lips overtake hers in a near struggle for control in the embrace, a force that is mirrored by Mickie. Mickie's hands grasp desperately at the back of his neck, Ken's hand slipping up her back while the other grabs her thigh, bringing her leg up against his waist…

End of Chapter 3


End file.
